


Star Crossed World

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [131]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, F/M, Robot!Josh, Subterfuge, Therapy Humans, klarolineauweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 08:46:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12503512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: His new life is solitary. He's lonely but at least he's free. When a transport ship drops off a Therapy Human Klaus scrambles to figure out how to send her back. He doesn't expect resistance but Caroline surprises him.





	Star Crossed World

**Star Crossed World**

**(Prompt: There are posts that float around Tumblr about humans having a difficult time adjusting to space and therefore needing Therapy Humans and I ran with the concept. Title from "Spaceman" by The Killers. Rated K+).**

A persistent beeping fills Klaus' tiny berth, bouncing around the metal walls. Echoing, growing louder, snapping Klaus out of the first stretch of decent sleep he's managed to get in weeks.

The words that spill from his lips, unintelligible and thick with exhaustion, are not appropriate for company.

Luckily, Klaus has none.

He scrubs a hand over his face, absently wonders when the last time he shaved was. Grooming rather fell to the wayside when your only company was a disembodied voice.

The A.I. had come with the ship, an unfailingly cheerful presence that had introduced itself as Josh. Klaus had grown up with various AI's. His mother preferred them to human servants who, she'd insisted, tended to be noisy and have an excessive amount of opinions. The AI's that worked for his parents were nothing like Josh. They'd always been carefully programmed and unable to speak unless spoken to. Speaking to them was strongly discouraged because, as his parent's had insisted, it wasn't as if they were equals.

Josh was far more verbose than any of the AI's Klaus was accustomed to. He exhibited curiosity about Klaus and where he'd come from. Had even managed to execute some tact, and move on to more general subjects, once his inquiries about Klaus' well known family had been met with terse replies.

Josh also offered suggestions unprompted, many of which were incredibly helpful since Klaus was new to the mechanics of a ship. A few were less welcome – Klaus was perfectly capable of researching brothels should he desire to. He did  _not_  need a rundown of which ones were purported to be the most cleanly and which offered non-standard services. He was well aware that the endorphins released after climax improved a human's mood.

As aggravating as that conversation had been Klaus hadn't considered activating the protocol in Josh's programming that would prevent him from speaking out of turn. Having another entity attempting to nurture him – even ineptly – was novel and the part of Klaus that was homesick, that missed his siblings desperately, even appreciated it.

For an AI Josh was also a little on the sensitive side so Klaus makes an effort to keep his tone from being harsh, "Cut the alarm. Is the ship on fire?"

Before retiring to his bunk Klaus had issued a single order, that he only be awoken if a situation was life and death.

He's been suffering through a drawn out bout of insomnia, a common side effect to adjusting to living in space. He'd read about it while he'd been hastily throwing together plans, had figured he could deal with it. He's finding it's much more difficult than anticipated.

Having spent his entire life on the biggest, most prosperous planet in The Aesir System Klaus had been less prepared than he'd realized for life on a ship. The terraforming on Odin was designed for human comfort – the temperatures were perfectly regulated, vegetation flourished and the air was filtered and fresh. Before spending his life's savings on a ship that had seen better days Klaus hadn't spent more than a week onboard one. As a child his family had taken occasional jaunts to the Vanir planets though even those had stopped once his mother's parents had passed on.

Had he been a less stubborn sort of person Klaus might have already given up. His hands were covered in bandages (because he'd run out of skin fixative and it wasn't cheap). Every muscle in his body ached constantly, strained by the physical labor required to keep the ship running on his own. He was lonely though he'd never admit that. He'd kept to himself the few times he'd had to make a stop planet-side for supplies, did his best not to seem hopelessly out of his depth when he took in terrain that defied logic, traversed cities filled with species he'd only ever read about.

As children the acquaintances he and his siblings cultivated had been strictly monitored. They weren't permitted to interact with anyone who could possibly reflect badly on the family name. Mikael had wanted to be Chancellor, had no qualms with using his children as bargaining chips to fulfill his political ambitions.

Klaus had always  _hated_  it. Had preferred to keep to himself rather than dive into the den of snakes his father considered company befitting a Mikaelson.

Finn had been lucky enough to fall in love with his handpicked bride. Elijah chose duty, gave up Katherine Pierce for the daughter of a top ranking general. Though Katherine was an obnoxious harpy, in Klaus' opinion, and he thought Elijah well rid of her, his dislike was personal, unlike Mikael who thought her too low born to ever be welcomed into the family.

Klaus had known that his turn was coming once Elijah's engagement had been announced. He had been dreading the parade of plastic smiles worn by acceptable possible spouses that he'd have to endure.

A heavily buried family secret had saved Klaus from that fate though it had also cost him. In his old life he had access to every comfort, luxuries most people could only dream of. He'd barely noticed the fine clothes, had taken the delicacies that were laid on the table every day for granted. He'd have snapped at anyone who dared suggest he was spoiled but living with only what his own meagre credits could buy wasn't easy.

When he'd left the home he'd grown up in Klaus had only had a hastily packed bag containing essential personal belongings and a few small trinkets he'd stolen away with. His access to the family accounts was cut off though Mikael hadn't been able to touch his personal ones. Klaus imagined he'd tried, took great satisfaction in imagining how he must have fumed at being denied.

It was one of the things that had kept him going through sleepless nights and crushing boredom.

"The ship is in perfect working order," Josh tells him. "You're being hailed by a courier ship and it's urgent."

That made little sense. Klaus hadn't ordered anything - wouldn't because the courier ships charged ridiculous fees. He sits up, reaching for a tablet. "What is it?"

"The manifest only lists a single package aboard," Josh supplies helpfully, even as Klaus accesses the information himself. "From a University on Thoth."

"Tell them I don't want it." It certainly sounded like something he couldn't afford.

"I can try. But when I told them you weren't available they insisted their delivery is time sensitive and must be opened within the next two hours. And, that as it was sent in your care, you'll be held liable for its expiring."

"The package is alive?" Klaus exclaims, shooting to his feet. Honestly, only an AI wouldn't think to lead with that information.

Josh isn't really capable of variations in pitch put the pause before the offered answer is long enough to seem pointed. "It's obviously a Therapy Human. What else would come from Thoth?"

Klaus' only knowledge of the planet was vague recollections of Rebekah begging their mother to plan a shopping trip. Something about how the fabric produced by their artisans being the best in the galaxy. "I don't  _want_  a Therapy Human," he says, reeling. "I don't  _need_  a Therapy Human." He hurriedly pulls on a shirt, sits to tug on his boots.

"Humans  _are_  social creatures," Josh remarks and Klaus assumes that's a disagreement.

"Can't I send it back?" he asks.

"One moment," there's an extended pause and Klaus waits anxiously, pacing the few steps his cabin allowed.

"I've scanned the typical contracts. Returns are permitted if the Therapy Human doesn't suit." Well  _that_  was a relief. Unfortunately, Josh's next words make it clear that Klaus wasn't quite off the hook. "Which rarely happens, according to the information packet, since selections are carefully done to ensure the best match. It would be your responsibility to return Caroline to Thoth."

"Caroline?" Klaus asks.

"Your Therapy Human," Josh supplies.

Klaus groans, running his hands through his hair as he considers his options. Thoth was on the outer edges of the galaxy, a cluster of planets far outside the usual shipping lanes that Klaus had been operating in. A trip out there would cost a fortune in fuel and he had no contacts out in that direction, no way of picking up any income when he got there. Perhaps he could ship her back the way she came? "How much would a cryosleep set up cost me? And the return shipping?"

Josh quotes a figure that would just about eat up all of Klaus' emergency money.

"Fuck," he grits out.

Josh is unsympathetic. "You've about ninety minutes left in your provided timeline. What do you wish to do?"

Klaus has very few choices and not a single one he's especially thrilled by. He grabs the ladder and hoists himself up. "Begin docking procedures. I'll accept the delivery."

He'd figure everything else out later, starting with who exactly had seen fit to order him a Therapy Human, when he wasn't in a time crunch.

* * *

Klaus doesn't bother to check the time on Odin when he places the call. He's seething, his hands shaking with the effort not to smash something (because he couldn't afford to repair anything –  _especially_  not now). He's viciously pleased when Kol's face fills the screen, eyes half open and manner disgruntled. His brother squints, "Nik? It's the middle of the night. You'd better have a damned good reason to be interrupting my beauty sleep."

Were this a call made for a more friendly reason Klaus might have taken the opportunity to needle his brother's vanity. Instead he gets to the point directly. "You got me a Therapy Human?" he spits out. "Had you been imbibing something illicit again?"

Kol perks up immediately, "Oh, did she arrive already? How wonderfully efficient. Do you like her? I picked out a pretty one, just for you."

Klaus grits his teeth together, sucks in a shallow breath through his nose and tells himself he has to be calm. He wasn't sure  _how_  Kol had managed to impersonate him but he needed more details before he contacted the Thoth University where Caroline had been trained. He might be furious but he'd like to avoid landing Kol a lengthy prison sentence.

Though it was entirely possible that his brother would manage to change his mind.

" _Why_  is Caroline under the impression that she's been corresponding with me?"

Kol grins, obviously immensely pleased with himself. "The thing with procuring illicit substances, brother, is that one meets all sorts of talented people. "I've got all the family videos at my disposal. Putting together a voice sim was a breeze. I told her you was shy and she didn't push for a video call. Probably part of her training. Sensitivity and other such nonsense."

"And how is it that you have a copy of my I.D. chips?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

Klaus feels his façade of calm slipping. Kol tended to have that effect. "How did you pay for it?"

Kol shakes his head in mock disappointment, "You've no imagination, Niklaus. Do you think I'd only copy  _your_  I.D. chips? Dear old dad has quite the clever stash of hidden accounts. It'll take him ages to realize one's been emptied, and he'll never trace it."

Klaus mulls that over. Kol was alarmingly clever, particularly in matters of mischief. He'd rarely been caught, even when they'd been children and logically he should have only gotten better at covering his tracks. He has one last question, " _Why_  did you get me a therapy human?"

Kol sighs in annoyance, "Rebekah's in cahoots with your ship. Managed to hack in and download your vitals. She knows you're not sleeping or getting many proper meals and she's afraid you're going to get space dementia wither away. I told her you'd do something far more dramatic like steer your ship into a star and go out with style. For some reason she didn't find that comforting, broke out the crocodile tears. You know I'm hopeless with those. So I promised to do something."

Right. Klaus makes a note to call Rebekah more. He's been careful not to do it often, afraid she'd be punished for refusing to cut off all contact with him. Evidently that had been a mistake if she'd gone to such lengths and gone to Kol.

"And your mind jumped to Therapy Human because…"

"I always said you were a little off, didn't I?"

Klaus resists the urge to ask further questions, well aware that Kol wouldn't offer more info. Had he been closer, still in his family's favor, he might have been able to exert more pressure. He'd just have to accept that this was, in Kol's mind, a good deed.

"Tell Rebekah to send me a list of times she'll be free to talk without mother hovering. We obviously need to have a discussion about boundaries."

"Yes," Kol says blandly, "I'm sure a discussion will immediately cure our sister of a lifetime of meddlesomeness."

Klaus, his patience used up, cuts the feed without bothering to reply. His timing is impeccable because he hears the squeak of boots on metal approaching. For a moment his heart beat picks up, a kick of fear leaving him tense, before he remembers that he'd told Caroline to come find him once she'd eaten and cleaned up.

He's been alone for months, had become used to the stillness. It'll take some time to adjust to another presence. He's only got the door to the cockpit open a hair and she raps her knuckles on it. "Come in," Klaus offers, spinning around in his chair.

She smiles, open and friendly, the sort of smile that's impossible not to respond to. She's changed out of the thermal jumpsuit she'd been wearing in her cryochamber into a pair of snug black pants and a soft looking blue sweater. His eyes linger on the length of her legs for a too long moment before snapping back up to her face. She is, as his brother had said,  _very_  pretty. Her skin's the sort of fair that requires protection from the sun and Klaus wonders if it could possibly feel as smooth as it looks.

Perhaps he should have paid more attention to Josh's brothel recommendations.

She's got a bottle of water in one hand and she lays the other on his shoulder briefly as she comes to his side. Klaus stiffens under the touch and she notices, gingerly moving away. "Sorry. My training emphasized tactility. But I understand if you're not accustomed to it. Would you prefer I didn't touch you?" She helps herself to the co-pilots chair, curling her legs up and swiveling to face him.

It's been a long time since Klaus has been tongue tied in the presence of a woman but he's finding words difficult. In truth he has little objection to her touching him but he knows enough about Therapy Humans to understand she'd find the thoughts racing through his head off putting.

He clears his throat, "Caroline. May I call you Caroline?"

Her brows furrow, "You've been calling me Caroline for weeks," she says slowly.

Any lascivious thoughts immediately flee Klaus' brain. He has to tell her the truth and he's not sure how she'll react. He wouldn't blame her if she was angry at being deceived. She'd come an awfully long way on a false pretense. "No, that's the thing.  _I_  haven't. You've been speaking to my brother."

Her denial is immediate, "That's not possible. Clients are vigorously vetted."

"I'm sorry but I'm afraid my brother's talents for deception are unparalleled."

Caroline studies him intently, weighing the truth of his words. She wraps her arms around her legs, "Why would he do that?"

"Honestly? I'm not entirely clear. If I had to wager I'd guess his motivations were 10% genuine concern for my well-being, 20% compassion for our sister who  _does_  fret over much, and 70% a desire to see if he  _could_  do it."

Her nose wrinkles, "If that's the case I wonder how he did such a decent facsimile of appearing appealing when we spoke since he's obviously a cretin."

The tiny burst of jealousy that settles low in his gut is unwelcome, "Oh?" he asks. "Appealing how?"

She shrugs, "I liked talking to him. I thought you, or well, he, was lonely. Were the things he told me about your family a lie?"

Klaus bristles, "What precisely did he tell you?"

Caroline's eyes don't leave him, soft with empathy, "That you found out your mother had an affair. That the man you thought was your father is a harsh man and that he was always hardest on you. That you left everyone and everything you've ever known behind instead of continuing to try to play the role of the perfect son."

Klaus' lips press tightly together, embarrassment and anger roiling through him.

"You don't have to say anything. Just know that I'd never tell anyone things I learned in confidence. You don't have to worry about that."

He nods tightly, reaching out to make a tiny (and not strictly necessary) adjustment to their flight path.

Caroline seems content to let him have his silence, leaning back and watching the stars with great interest. She sips steadily at her water and once she's done Klaus offers another. She'd been under for a month according to the data they'd been transferred, and cryosleep was rough on a human body. All because of his brother's machinations. The least he can do is ensure her comfort. "I'm fine," she murmurs. "Thank you, though," she twists to look at him once more. "Actually, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Were the drawings yours? Or did your brother do those too?"

"Drawings? They were probably mine," Klaus says. "Kol's hopeless with a pencil or paints. Why?"

"They're why I picked you."

Klaus blinks, surprised. "You  _picked_  me?"

She hums a confirmation, smirking playfully, "What, did you think I was ordered out of some catalogue? Please. Do you know what the demand for Therapy Humans is like? We go where we want."

"And you wanted to come to me?" Klaus asks incredulously.

"Because of the drawings. There was one of a forest. Not the kind of forests we terraform now but one like the pictures from Old Earth. Where the trees could grow as high as they could manage and the branches tangled. The one's that contained every shade of green you could imagine, only broken up by pops of other colors where flowers grew wild. My mom used to tell me bedtime stories. A princess who escapes her castle and finds friends in a forest. A maiden in an enchanted sleep under the cover of trees, waiting for true loves kiss. A girl, who wanders off the path, finds danger but defeats it. I loved them but it had been forever since I'd thought of them. The drawings brought it all back."

"Are you close to your mother?"

"I was," Caroline answers, sorrow in the words.

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes close for a moment, and Klaus sees a hint of wetness appear in her lashes, wishes he had something to offer her. She shakes her head and laughs unsteadily, "I'm fairly certain that I'm not the one who's supposed to cry so let's talk about something else. What's the plan now?"

"I have to figure out the best course to Thoth. What we'll need for the journey."

Her head turns towards him sharply, "What? You're taking me back?"

Klaus gestures around him, "A Therapy Human isn't in my budget, love. Nor do I need one."

She tips her head to the side, a hint of challenge in her blue eyes, "Really? You're  _happy_  in this teeny metal box all by your lonesome? That's not what Josh said."

Klaus glares at the ceiling well aware that they're not technically alone. He'll have to remember to make sure that a recording of this conversation doesn't get played for Rebekah. " _Josh_  shouldn't be gossiping. And happiness has little to do with finances in the real world, I'm finding. "

She waves a dismissive hand, "My contract is paid for the next year. I won't cost you a cent. I have a generous stipend for food and clothing and things. What if I want to stay?"

That takes him aback, "I… hadn't considered that."

Her smile is teasing, "I'll forgive you for being self-centered since you've been in hermit mode for months but don't make it a habit."

" _Do_  you want to stay?"

"Maybe. Stand up, let's test something."

Klaus thinks about arguing but something about the set of Caroline's shoulders tells him he'd be wasting his breath. He rises slowly, watches warily as she does the same. He sucks in a gasp when she steps into him, tucking her face into his shoulder. "This is a hug, Klaus. Try it."

Tentatively he winds his arms around her, finds he can't help but savor the weight of her body so close to his. Wonders if it would be wrong to press his face into her hair.

He tenses when she makes to pull back but manages to resist holding her tighter.

"Huh. You're not as terrible at that as I anticipated."

That's the oddest approximation of a compliment Klaus has ever received.

"Did you hate it?" Caroline asks. "While some humans function better with regular physical contact there are some that are touch averse."

He hadn't hated it. Not at all. Klaus shakes his head. "It was… fine."

Caroline beams up at him. "I can work with that. I've always wanted to see the rest of the galaxy. Didn't have the money to travel but, when my aptitude test scores came back, I figured becoming a Therapy Human was my best shot. And, I find that I like the actual you as much as I liked the fake you."

"We've only just met."

"I'm an excellent judge of character. Plus, you're my first assignment and I'd rather not fail it." Klaus thinks about pointing out that she wouldn't be failing anything given the circumstances but Caroline plows ahead. "What if we try it out? Give me a month, you can chart a course vaguely in the direction of Thoth. Just… a scenic route."

No one would ever accuse Klaus of being a pushover. Twenty minutes ago he'd had a plan but somehow Caroline had blown it to smithereens. "A trial," he says. "Fine."

She beams and hugs him again, more aggressively, all soft curves, warm skin and exuberance, and Klaus acknowledges that he'd never had a fighting chance. He can easily see a month stretching into two, two stretching into the full year. "You're not going to regret this," she tells him, sounding almost smug.

Klaus isn't sure if he will or not. If she stays the year, if they  _work_  together, what happens then? Would he want to let her go? Could he convince her to give up her job and stay just because she wanted to?

Was that even possible?

He hears her yawn, an insistent one that sends a shiver down her whole body and he decides his questions will keep. "Let's get you to a bunk," he murmurs and she nods against him.

"Please. Cryosleep is weird and I'm exhausted."

He's read that, isn't surprised when she stumbles when he begins to usher her out of the cockpit. "We can talk more tomorrow."

A new plan begins to form as he leads her to the sleeping area. While Caroline slept Klaus would do some research, figure out the rules and boundaries of her position. He'll get Kol to send him every piece of his correspondence with Caroline even if he has to induce Bekah into histrionics to make it happen.

He's been aimless since leaving his home planet. It's probably long past time to start thinking about his future.


End file.
